Nickroe-fying Season 5
by futotta neko
Summary: What it says on the tin, really. I'm taking S5 episodes as prompts and adding more Nickroe-ness. I will try to connect all the chapters so that I have a consistent "Nickroe layer" on top of the actual S5 plot. Warning: There will be spoilers for the most recent episodes. Disclaimer: Parts of the dialogues are taken straight from the script, those parts belong to the Grimm writers.
1. 501

Monroe's Beetle pulled up on the opposite side of the road just as Nick was stepping out of his car. _Shit_. Monroe was the last person he needed to see right now. He was going to keep telling himself that until he believed it.

"Dude, you need to answer your phone."

The blutbad wasn't wasting any time, gesticulating at him in his unmistakably Monroe-esque manner. Nick should have known Monroe would come to save him from himself. Not Hank or Wu or any other member of their unlikely gang. Always Monroe.

"What are you doing here?"

Nick walked past his friend, trying to ignore him – as much as it was possible to ignore someone who was so tall and wore brightly-coloured trousers and kept talking to the back of his head with undiminished passion. Finally, the detective stopped and turned around with a sigh. Obviously, he wasn't going to get rid of Monroe so easily.

".. and I don't want to see you do something, you know, if you really need me!"

"I appreciate that", Nick did his best to keep his tone measured, even though on the inside he was boiling, "but you can't be part of this, not until I'm sure. Now get out of here."

"Nick.."

"Get out of here!", the Grimm shouted in exasperation, pointing and pushing away the guilt as the expression on his friend's face shifted from worried to shocked to hurt. No one could possibly expect him to be dealing with Monroe's feelings right now!

He made a move to walk away but the blutbad had other plans, catching him by his arm and forcing the detective to keep facing him.

"No, I'm not gonna do that, Nick!"

The determination in Monroe's voice was unexpected.

"You don't get to send me away like this, not anymore. Not after what happened between us."

That was the last straw.

"D'you really think it's a good time to bring this up?!", Nick exploded, forcefully pulling his arm out of Monroe's grasp. "My girlfriend died in my arms last night, you idiot! Her body is barely even cold yet! Not that I could tell, I don't even know where her body _is_!"

"I doubt Juliette was still considering herself your girlfriend, Nick!"

Monroe held his gaze firmly for a moment before dropping it with a shake of his head.

"I'm sorry, man. Look, it's not like I'm asking you to sleep with me again or something -"

"Shh!" Nick hissed, glancing up and down the road. Thankfully, there was no one within earshot.

"I'm just asking you to not get yourself killed in my absence. Or _at all_ , ideally, if I can help it. As your _friend_."

"Friend, huh?" Nick gave an ironic chuckle, dropping his own gaze and very carefully not checking out Monroe's long legs in those weird pinkish trousers that suited him pretty well, actually.

"I mean, what are you planning to do with that FBI agent? Or is this another one of your punch first, ask questions later missions?"

"She's got Trubel!" Nick barked. "I gotta see for myself if she's wesen!"

"And if she is, then what?"

"Then I'm gonna take her somewhere safe for questioning."

"Like where?"

"I don't know, Monroe! Somewhere _safe_! The Spice Shop basement should do fine."

"Oh, so you're saying I _am_ gonna be part of this. Me and Rosalee both."

Nick huffed, sticking both hands into his pockets.

"Guess I haven't thought this far."

"Hey, it's cool, man, a kidnapped FBI agent should make a nice addition to my collection of stolen passports and phones and your murder weapon from one of the other times you did such a good job not involving me in a crime -"

"Alright, alright!" Nick cut him off impatiently, "You wanna help or not!?"

"Sure", Monroe confirmed with unnecessary enthusiasm.

"Just keep your voice down, will you?"

Nick strode on with the blutbad tagging along half a step behind him.

"So, how are we getting in?"

"Through the back door."

Monroe very wisely kept the obvious 'back door' joke to himself as he followed Nick around the house.

"I guess I better look for something hard so we can smash in the glass or -"

He stopped himself when Nick got a small bundle of skeleton keys out of his pocket.

"Oh. Of course. I forget you cops have access to all the tools. Well, at least if the captain fires you for this you've got an alternative career path lined up - .. okay, okay, I'm shutting up now."

Monroe ducked under Nick's punishing stare and watched in silence as the detective picked the lock with surprising skill. They went inside.

"She should be out still."

"Well, I can tell you for sure she's not here", Monroe pointed to his nose.

"Good. Help me search the house. Anything that tells us where Trubel is. Or that Chavez is wesen."

"For example? It's not like we're hanging wesen certificates on our walls, you know?"

"Just start looking."

Nick pulled out a drawer and sounded irritated enough for Monroe not to question him further. They worked themselves through the ground floor, then the rooms upstairs. When Monroe finished the study and came into Chavez's master bedroom Nick was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, looking a little less angry and a little more lost.

The clockmaker let himself sink down onto the bed next to him, keeping a respectful distance.

"Well, I got nothing."

"No, me neither", Nick admitted, sounding disheartened - or maybe just really, _really_ tired.

"So, what are we doing now?" Monroe gave his own voice a pointedly upbeat tone, hoping to stop his friend from drifting into lethargy.

"Waiting for her to come back. Her shift's finishing in ten."

"Okay."

Monroe stretched out his legs and occupied himself with a detailed examination of his boots - which Nick interrupted only moments later.

"Your should go home. I'm sure Rosalee needs you."

"Well.. you need me more."

"Okay. Up to you."

Monroe peeked over at the young man, all pale-faced and red-eyed and with his lips pressed together into a thin line. He looked like he was ready to sleep for a year, but also like he wouldn't be able to sleep even if he tried. The clockmaker scrunched up his face, hurting from just looking at his friend. Inadvertently, he inched a little closer.

"Listen, Nick.. I'm so sorry about Juliette. I mean, I'm not entirely sure what happened still, you could tell me, of course. Or not. But I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'm sure you are."

It came out more snarkily than intended, and this time Nick could not push back the guilt. It wasn't fair to take his anger out on Monroe, it wasn't Monroe's fault. None of it was.

"I mean, thank you for saying that."

"I cared for Juliette, man. Well, when she wasn't trying to make you shoot me or burning your possessions and all those shenanigans. I really did."

He paused, studying the side of Nick's face. Not that there was much to study. Right now, it was about as expressive as a stone. The clockmaker moved a little closer still.

"But if one of you had to die, Nick, I'm glad it wasn't you. Because if you'd died, I would have torn the world apart. You know that, right?"

Monroe wasn't even sure if Nick had heard him at all until the detective replied, a long couple of moments later. Finally, there was a softer edge to his voice.

"I know."

Monroe dared a tiny smile. He dared to curl a cautious arm around Nick's shoulders, and since he did not encounter any resistance he pulled gently until Nick's head was resting against him.

"Don't worry", he nestled his own cheek into the detective's hair. "We'll find Trubel. And Juliette, and.. we'll find everyone they took from you. We'll make this right. Well, maybe not _right_ , but it will get _better_ , you know? Everything will -"

"Monroe?"

"Hm?"

"Just be quiet for a bit."

Nick closed his eyes, feeling his friend's lips against his scalp. For a moment or two, all this noise inside his head subsided a little.


	2. 502

Nick couldn't help smiling when he noticed the stuffed fox and wolf toys in Kelly's cot, but even that adorable little detail failed to keep the corners of his mouth turned upwards for long. Aside from his son, Monroe's and Rosalee's friendship was the one good thing left in his life. It used to be the easiest thing, too. That wasn't the case any longer.

Carefully, Nick put down the car seat, watching the little boy drift off to sleep. Yes, his baby was definitely cuter than the captain's, not that he was biased or anything. But there was also another reason why he kept his eyes focused on Kelly. His son's mother had vanished upstairs with Rosalee already, the fuchsbau had brought something from the Spice Shop to help with Adalind's 'post-natal lady issues', which both Nick and Monroe were quite happy to remain unaware of and stay far away from. It was just them two downstairs now. Being alone with Monroe was something Nick had been trying to avoid lately, with all the success rate of a moth in a forest of candles.

"Look, Nick, I gotta be honest.."

The Grimm took a deep breath and turned around. Out of Monroe's mouth, that certainly wasn't his favourite conversation starter. Still, he walked over to his friend.

"I have sort of a bad feeling about this", the clockmaker confessed with the kind of sincerity that gave him adorable little wrinkles around his eyes.

"They're my responsibility."

"I'm not talking about Adalind and Kelly.. okay, I guess I'm _kind of_ talking about Adalind."

"What about her?"

"Well", Monroe shifted his weight from one foot to the other, lowering his voice and looking decidedly uneasy, "don't you think you're being a little.. um.. maybe a little too lenient with her? After everything she's done to you?"

"How am I supposed to be with her?" Nick quickly dropped his own voice. "She's just had a baby. _My_ baby."

"You sure about that?"

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean, I'm not judging, but does she seem like the puritan type to you? You can be a little naive sometimes."

"And you can be a little patronising sometimes."

"Can I?", Monroe pouted. "I'm just saying, you need to be careful before you get all emotionally invested in playing family. Adalind's gonna get her hexenbiest thing back sooner or later, and we both know how that can lead to a Jekyll and Hyde sort of conflict.."

The blutbad gave him a meaningful look. Nick shrugged.

"I'll deal with it when that happens."

"I don't think you realise how dangerous she is."

"Dangerous? She can barely even walk."

"Well, there are other things she might be able to do with her legs that could -"

"Wait a second", Nick interrupted, experiencing a lightbulb moment, "wait a second, are you _jealous_?"

" _What_?" The clockmaker flushed. "I'mnotjealouswhyshouldIbejealous?"

"I can think of reasons."

"I'm not _jealous_ ", Monroe was eager to point out. "It's not like you _owe_ me anything, Nick. I'm not that deluded."

"No, I certainly don't owe you anything", Nick's voice was almost a whisper now, "given that _you're_ the one who's _married_. And that we both agreed it was a _mistake_."

" _Mistakes_. Plural."

"Whatever."

"You know what else was a mistake?" Monroe managed to sound unabatedly intense even whilst whispering. "Hank getting close to Adalind was a mistake. Remember what happened to him? And to Wu? I just don't want to find you on your hands and knees with your face in the carpet one day."

"You didn't complain last time that happened", Nick grumbled.

Obviously, his brain had gone into stand-by mode for a moment and now Monroe was blinking at him, his face lightening somewhat.

"No", he agreed with the strained expression of someone working hard to suppress a grin. Nick found he had the exact same problem himself.

"But at least you weren't _eating_ the carpet. That's gotta be bad for your digestion."

"I guess so."

They both gave an almost perfectly synchronous chuckle and Nick felt his shoulders relax a little. He sighed, ruffling his hair. They always ended up like this.

"Well, what do you suggest I do with Adalind?" He said simply. "She's feeding Kelly, like, every two hours. I haven't learned to produce milk from my nipples yet."

"No, I know, of course, I'm not saying she shouldn't _be_ here, just _please_.. don't.."

Monroe fell silent, suddenly out of words, yet his eyes were as expressive as ever. Those eyes were a dark brown paradox, capable of making Nick go soft and hard all at the same time, yes, they could even -

There was a soul-shattering cry.

"Oh God!"

Nick rushed over to the cot. It was safe to say Kelly wasn't asleep anymore. He didn't seem overly cute either right now, screaming with all the impatience of a hungry little goblin.

"Adalind!" Nick shouted in panic. "The baby! You coming?"

"We need a couple more minutes, Nick", came Rosalee's calm voice from upstairs.

"Just take him for a moment", came Adalind's marginally less calm voice from upstairs.

"Right", Nick tugged nervously at the buckles, fumbling the little bundle of joy out of the car seat.

"There, there", he started rocking the baby in his arms, a little awkwardly, "don't cry, food will be here soon."

"Waaaaah!" Kelly opined, not at all impressed.

"What do I do?!" Nick looked helplessly over at Monroe, as if asking where to find the 'mute' button. "What's wrong?!"

"I don't know", Monroe shrugged sympathetically, "want me to -"

"Here!" Nick handed over the tiny but surprisingly vocal parcel. "You try!"

Monroe smiled down at the screeching baby boy in his arms.

"Well, don't you have some lungs on you?"

Unexpectedly, he started humming something Nick did not recognise. It took the Grimm a while to realise it was German.

"Alle meine Entchen, schwimmen auf dem See, schwimmen auf dem See.."

Singing was one of the notably few things that Monroe wasn't utterly great at. And yet, astonishingly, Kelly seemed to be calming down a little more with every round of whatever this whole "Entchen" malarkey was. Soon he was looking at the clockmaker out of big blue eyes, mustering him in perceptive silence.

"What was that?" Nick demanded with a hint of envy – and a truckload of relief.

"Kind of the first thing that came to mind", Monroe kept his smiling gaze on the baby. "My great-uncle used to sing a lot of kids' songs to me."

"Uncle Olaf, is it?"

"Oh, hey, you do actually listen to me sometimes!" Monroe grinned.

"Can't always be helped", Nick muttered. "But how did you _do_ that."

"Dunno, maybe this little guy likes my voice?"

Who doesn't, Nick thought, but decided to keep it to himself. It was bad enough that he couldn't peel his eyes away from his friend, the glimpses of naturally tanned skin revealed by his carelessly rolled up sleeves and underneath the top buttons left undone on his lightly chequered shirt. On both of his shirts, in fact. Honestly, could Monroe not cover up a little before coming over to his place? Did he have to look so ruggedly handsome, standing there with his new-found accessory? Kelly looked perfectly safe and secure in the blutbad's strong arms, the ones Nick had recently discovered were so gentle too. He looked down, shaking his head.

"I'm surprised you and Rosalee have not had a baby yet.."

"I don't think she's ready", Monroe's tone was pointedly casual but did not quite manage to conceal the bitter notes within. "Maybe she'll never be, with her past and all.."

They both jumped as Rosalee came down the stairs with Adalind at this exact point. Monroe carefully handed over the baby, and then him and Rosalee were saying goodbye, not without the clockmaker giving Nick a last deep look before departing.

"Nick, are you okay?"

The Grimm felt Adalind's hand on his shoulder. He found himself still staring in the direction of the door. Staring after Monroe.

"Yeah, fine."

He carefully shook off the hexenbiest's hand.

"I'm fine."

Monroe would always go home with his wife. Nick was fine with that.

* * *

A/N: Please review and let me know how you're liking this idea. :)


	3. 504

A/N: God, this story is turning into a really cheesy gay soap opera. I just felt like writing something awfully melodramatic. It's like cheesy cheese in a cheese sauce baked over with cheese (.. wait, that doesn't sound so bad, actually?)

Well, you've been warned! ;)

One thing I now realise is that I really, REALLY enjoy writing Nick as a bitchy drama queen ;D. No idea where that's coming from.. maybe the fact he's a bit of an emotionless drone in the actual series? I totally see him in a kind of bratty sub/patient dom dynamic with Monroe :D.

This chapter is inspired by me feeling nostalgic about the first season.. lots of references to season one..

Please note that I'm using British English (mostly). Therefore, nappies. Etc.

* * *

"Well, that's all we got on weten ogen here, I'm sorry there doesn't seem to be anything of particular interest.."

The clockmaker made a move to close the weathered tome in front of them but Nick stopped him, leaning over his shoulder from behind and placing a hand on the yellowed page.

"Weten ogen, huh?", he scoffed.

Monroe focused on keeping his breathing as shallow as possible, shifting forward on his chair. He'd caught himself at the very last moment. The moment before that last one, he was about to turn around and press his nose into Nick's neck. This was such a difficult line to toe once you had crossed it with someone, just like trying to unsay a word you really meant.

"Looks just the same as a klaustreich to me!"

Nick sounded irritated, as if Monroe had been responsible for writing that damn book.

"Seriously, how many more of your wesen species can there possibly be?"

"Not as many as there once were", the blutbad grumbled, "before your relatives decided to meet and greet us with battle axes."

There was a second of uncomfortable silence before Nick leaned back and walked away from the table. Monroe sighed with a mixture or regret - and relief. Someone should have invented a word for that subtle flavour of emotion. Regrief, maybe. Monroe had been experiencing his fair share of regrief when looking at the Grimm these days.

"I'm sorry", Nick muttered. "That was a stupid thing to say."

The clockmaker lifted one side of the book, watching the pages slide down one by one as he allowed it to fall shut. Very, very slowly.

"Hey man, is something up?"

He finally turned around to look at his friend.

"Is it something I said, or.. ?"

"No."

"Hm."

If Nick had tried to move his mouth even less he might have as well signed up for a new career as a ventriloquist.

"You see, Nick, to me that sounds like the kind of 'no' that's a 'yes' in sheep's clothing, and boy, I've heard enough 'no's in my life to count myself an expert. So, come on, spit it out."

He only allowed himself a second to consider how that was not at all what he'd suggest under different circumstances.

"It's nothing", Nick huffed.

"Really? You insisted on staying behind because you wanted to discuss weten ogen mating cycles?"

The detective jammed both hands into his pockets and shrugged. Monroe rolled his eyes. Nick had been a right moody son of a Grimm lately, which seemed so very unlike the young man.

"What is it, Nick?"

It was true what they said, you can never assume to know someone inside out until you, well, _actually_ get to know them on the inside. Though that didn't mean to say that Monroe liked his friend-turned-lover-turned-friend any less. In fact, he liked him even _more_ now that he could see how heart-breakingly imperfect Nick was. Once you've had someone down on the ground it was near impossible to put them back up on a pedestal, but that was not a bad thing. Also, 'liked' was hardly the mot juste.

"What have I done _again_?"

The clockmaker had been trying so hard, honestly. He was as good a friend as he could possibly be, always there for Nick and putting up with the detective's crabbiness without as much as a complaint. Heck, he'd even changed a few nappies here and there, despite the impact on his sensitive nose. Not _Nick's_ nappies, obviously. And he took care not to bring _it_ up anymore. Unless Nick brought _it_ up first, which happened with surprising regularity, considering that Nick never wanted to talk about _it_ again..

"I came to see you about this stupid feather before, you know?", the detective finally admitted, failing to relieve too much of the suspense.

"Yeah?" Monroe cocked an eyebrow. "When?"

"Yesterday, when you were in the Spice Shop. With Rosalee."

"Eh?" The clockmaker's confusion grew exponentially. "But.. you didn't come in?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you said you wanted to forget you ever met me!"

Nick suddenly exploded, glaring at him out of darkened eyes. The first time Monroe had observed Nick's irises change with emotion, just like a wesen's would, it had scared the living wolf out of him. But as time passed he learned to love that colour of underground lakes, of everything that was hidden beneath the surface. Still, right now, he was nothing but shocked.

"Excuse me, what?"

"You said you wanted to forget everything before Rosalee!"

Monroe blinked at the Grimm in utter confusion for quite a while, until -

"Oh."

Finally, his brain kicked in.

" _Oh_. You _heard_ that?"

"Yeah, I was at the door", Nick spat, pointing to his ears, "that fly wesen's parting gift, remember?"

"Uh -"

"Fine, if that's how you feel, then there really was no need to pretend that -"

"No no no, wait a second", Monroe hastily scrambled out of his chair, "wait a second, that's not what I meant at all, and you're well aware -"

"Well, you _said_ it!" Nick made a sweeping gesture, like an angry windscreen wiper. "And you _always_ say what you mean, don't you! Or you mean what you say! Ah, _whatever_.."

He stopped wiping and slapped himself across the forehead, looking utterly dejected all of a sudden. Monroe stared down for a moment, as if that line that stopped him from walking over and taking the young man in his arms could be seen right there, drawn on the floor between their feet.

"Geez, Nick!" He burst out instead, attempting a wiper impersonation all of his own. "I was just trying to say something romantic, s'all! Because, hell, that Carlos guy wrote a freaking _song_ for her! You _know_ how meeting you both changed my life around, you _and_ Rosalee. You're just being deliberately obtuse, aren't you?"

"And you're just being deliberately forgetful!" Nick retorted grumpily. "I seem to remember a time when it was just the two of us.."

The Grimm visibly exhaled and sucked in his lower lip, eyes resting on Monroe's collarbone. It made the blutbad want to grab this goddamn frustrating idiot, push him against one of the shelf units and pull that pretty lip into his own mouth, to graze it with his teeth whilst fucking Nick into all of those ancient books.

".. I mean, everyone's in the know now, so that's great, and really helpful, but.. I kind of miss the old days, when it was just you and me against the world.."

Nick's voice softened considerably as he spoke. It was barely even audible when he finished, so Monroe made sure to speak up.

"Well, more like us against _my_ world", he chuckled.

At least one of them had to try and refrain from getting too emotional at any given point, or else..

"Remember how we fought in the löwen pits together?" Nick ignored his reserve.

"Yup. You went cuckoo, I got electrocuted, and my insurance refused to let me have a new iPhone.."

".. but we won!" Nick smiled. "Or when we went looking for that girl in the forest?"

"Dude, that was _crazy_!" Monroe let himself get carried away a little. "That's where you first called me 'your friend', too.. well, just in time, I suppose, as I was about to become your _very dead_ friend!"

"And still, you didn't want to be the status quo kind of guy..", Nick remarked. "Ah, those were, well, _interesting_ times."

"Yeah, they were..", Monroe allowed a healthy dose of sarcasm into his voice, "well, maybe apart from the time when your colleague pulled a shotgun on me in my own house.. or the time when I had to rip off some random guy's arm.. and also the one where -"

"Fine, you know what? I'm gonna go."

Nick was about to stomp past him when Monroe caught him by his elbow. The Grimm was getting terribly sensitive these days.

"Hey. _Hey_. I'm sorry, I'm just fooling around."

So much for refraining from getting too emotional.

"I miss it too, man. We were like Batman and Robin, weren't we? Minus the lycra pants, of course. And the money. And the badass car."

Monroe let his hand slide down Nick's arm, squeezing the young man's thin fingers for a brief moment before letting go. He really _was_ trying to honour that 'no touching' rule they'd established, but it wasn't easy.

"I'd love to hang out more, you know?" He noted quietly. "Have dinner again, maybe. Just us. Without any talk about your balls this time. But _you're_ the one saying we shouldn't see each other too much, for now. Until it all settles."

Nick gave a sad little laugh.

"I know. How is that going for you?"

"Well.."

Monroe followed the Grimm with his eyes as the young man picked up the tome they'd been reading and walked over to the shelves, sliding it back into its place. The same shelves Monroe had been phantasising about earlier. Nick remained facing them for some reason. The view of his backside was almost irresistible. The blutbad felt his claws tingle underneath the perfectly groomed nails. He padded across until he was standing just behind his friend, just short of touching him.

"It doesn't have to be so complicated, you know?" He muttered in Nick's ear.

The Grimm felt every single hair on his body stand on edge, as if trying to shorten the distance between his and Monroe's skin. He gripped the back of the thick, leather-bound book he was still holding on to.

"I never wanted it to end, what we had.. you _know_ that.. _you_ wanted it to end."

The blutbad was radiating heat like a freaking radiator. And yet Nick knew his friend would not dare anything, not unless he said the word. And not simply because Rosalee was in the shop upstairs that very moment and some lines were better not crossed. No, just because he was _the good guy_. And sometimes, deep down in his core, the detective wished that once, just once, Monroe could be bad enough to disregard his wishes.

"We don't have to torture ourselves like this.."

Nick felt Monroe's mouth move along his neck, not touching him, just breathing on his skin, and judging by the guttural quality of the blutbad's voice his fangs were out by now.

".. and each other.. or, at least, we could find _more pleasant_ _ways_ to torture each other.."

The Grimm closed his eyes, his friend's husky voice seeping into his blood and shooting straight down to his groin. He felt like a damn hero just pressing out this one short, abrupt, monosyllabic word.

"No."

He quickly squeezed past Monroe and away from the shelves, gaining some much-needed distance. His heart was throbbing in his throat, making it a challenge to speak, and still, he managed.

"No, we could not."

Monroe turned around with a deep sigh, looking disappointingly human, apart from the hungry red spark that lingered in his eyes.

"And why not?"

"Because you're _married_?!"

"We've been through this, Nick!" The clockmaker spread out his arms in sheer frustration, leaning back into the shelves. "I've explained it to you, how these things work differently for wesen, right? It's not like I was _cheating_. Rosalee's _alright_ with -"

"But _I'm_ not alright with it!"

All of a sudden, Nick found himself shouting at the top of his voice, sounding painfully hoarse. He stopped and cleared his throat, continuing at a more appropriate volume.

"We've been through this one, too, Monroe. I'm not alright sharing you. Even if it was just physical, I could not share you, even if I didn't have any -.."

"Any _what_?"

"It doesn't matter. I gotta go."

He picked up his jacket from the back of a chair, jerking it on.

"I love you, Nick", Monroe said simply.

The detective froze with one arm hanging half inside the sleeve. Then he realised he was putting on his jacket the wrong way around.

"And I love Rosalee, too. I love you both. I told you so before."

"You can't love two people at once", Nick hissed from behind gritted teeth, finally defeating that damn piece of clothing.

"I seem to manage just fine."

"Then you're fooling yourself."

"Love's not like a cake, you know? It's not like there's any less of it if I give someone a slice."

"That might be just the dumbest thing you've ever said." Nick squinted at him in despair, zipping up his jacket. "And, believe me, there's enough to choose from."

"Which part was dumb? The cake thing? Or that I love you."

"Both", Nick confirmed as he made his way up the stairs. "Both."

* * *

A/N 2: Please let me know your thoughts on this :)

There WILL be "proper" smut at some point


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